


spoil me, spoil you

by springbreeze



Category: TsukiPro the Animation
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-09
Updated: 2019-03-09
Packaged: 2019-11-14 06:23:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18047219
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/springbreeze/pseuds/springbreeze
Summary: Kouki cooks, and the rest of Growth ascends to a higher plane of existence.





	spoil me, spoil you

**Author's Note:**

> this is the dumbest thing I've ever written and ryou just outright breaks at the end I'm so sorry

“Wow!”

Three starry-eyed gazes swept over the table laden with extravagant dishes. A richly colored soup that was still gently bubbling, a steaming pile of freshly cooked rice, a vibrantly green salad dotted with bright red tomatoes, and a long length of well-seasoned salmon that wafted a mouthwateringly buttery smell in their direction.

“There’s dessert too,” Kouki called with amusement from the kitchen, reaching up with one hand to pull his hair smoothly out of the tie and brush it over his shoulders. “The milk was almost out, so I used the rest to make pudding. I think it’ll be good with some fruit on top.”

“Pudding!” Mamoru and Kensuke echoed, while Ryouta’s eyes unmistakably brightened.

“What’s the occasion?” he asked with thinly veiled composure.

“Do I need a reason?” Kouki replied mildly as he weaved around the counter to join them at the dining table. “I finally had some time to cook all I wanted and it just turned out like this. Let’s eat before it gets cold.”

Four pairs of hands clapped together, and three cheerful voices rang out. “Thanks for the food!”

At the enthusiasm of his members, Kouki smiled. “Go ahead.”

* * *

“That was delicious!” Mamoru proclaimed as he slumped back against his chair in a stretch. “Kou-kun! It was delicious! Of course your food is always delicious, but it was really, really delicious!”

“I’m glad to hear it.” Brimming with obvious pleasure, Kouki reached out to lift an empty plate but was stopped by Ryouta’s scandalized voice.

“Kou, what do you think you’re doing?”

Kouki blinked back. “I need to do the dishes?”

“Nope.” Kensuke whisked the plate away from Kouki’s fingertips and added it to the stack already balanced in his other arm before flashing a grin. “ _You_ need to sit and relax. Ryou and I will clean up and do the dishes.”

“But-”

“They’re right, Kou-kun.” Clapping Kouki gently by the shoulders and turning him around to march towards the sofa, Mamoru beamed. “It’s the least we can do after you made dinner. Leave it to us and take a break.”

“Mamoru? _You’re_ not touching these dishes, right?”

“No, I will not!”

“…If you say so,” Kouki muttered bemusedly, but allowed himself to be pushed away from the kitchen. “Thank you, Ryou, Ken.”

Ken airily waved a soap-covered hand.

* * *

No sooner had they reached the sofa, Mamoru gestured for Kouki to sit down before turning tail and heading back to the kitchen without an explanation. Trusting that it was not to help with the dishes as promised, Kouki let his head fall against the back of the sofa and exhaled a long sigh.

A few minutes later, Mamoru was back with a steaming mug in hand and a smile. “Kou-kun, here’s some tea. You’ve worked hard today.”

It took a second of staring at the mug for the words to register. “…Ah. Thank you, Mamoru.” He reached up, sliding his fingers through the handle as Mamoru passed the mug carefully over, and brought it up to his face. Something faintly sweet mingled with the flowery scent of tea as Kouki inhaled, the warmth of the steam filling his throat and spreading throughout his chest. “Honey?”

“Just a little bit. You had to do a lot of singing today, didn’t you? The day before was a long interview too.”

“You were at the interview too.” Kouki took a sip and leaned back, sighing again. “But it’s been a busy week, now that I think about it. It’s good to be busy.”

“Kou, you should fix your habit of saying that and just admit you’re tired.” Bounding out of the kitchen, Kensuke flung himself onto the separate armchair beside them, a spot of bubbles still visible on his right cheek that he swiftly wiped away at Mamoru’s amused signal. “Well, we know you actually mean it, though.”

“You cooked so much because you’ve been busy, didn’t you?” Ryouta followed from behind to take the empty spot on Kouki’s other side, patting his shoulder. “And we’re finally off tomorrow.”

Kouki paused mid-sip, contemplating. Unconsciously, it might have been the case. “Maybe you’re right. Since I hadn’t had time to cook recently, I got carried away.”

At that, the other three heaved an exasperated sigh in unison, making Kouki turn his head in surprise. Mamoru was clutching dramatically at his chest as if he had been stabbed.

“Honestly, you’re amazing to even say that, Kou,” Ryouta folded his arms imperiously. “Even the way you relieve stress is entirely too selfless.”

“It’s nothing like that.”

The unexpectedly sharp response that arose from Kouki’s throat surprised even himself as his eyes widened, interrupting Kensuke and Mamoru’s nods of affirmation. He brought his free hand up to his mouth, rubbing his chin as he searched for the words. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to sound that way. But my motivations aren’t as pure as you think they are, unfortunately.”

He hesitated again, but Ryouta, Kensuke, and Mamoru only waited quietly, encouragingly, as they always did, and Kouki let the simple, honest words escape from him.

“I want you all to eat my cooking. I want to hear you tell me it was delicious. I want you to ask me to cook more tomorrow.” He shook his head. “I can hardly think of anything more selfish than that.”

Kouki looked back to his members, punctuating with a slightly wry laugh as he felt his cheeks heat up.

But to his surprise, they had buried their faces into their hands.

“…W-What’s wrong?”

“Kou-kun!” Mamoru wailed, sounding close to sobs.

“No big deal.” Kensuke’s voice was muffled from behind his hands. “We were just blinded for a second.”

“Kou!” Ryouta lunged towards him, grabbing Kouki’s hands in his own and gripping tightly, his eyes wild with something frenzied. “I would do anything for you. All you have to do is say the word.”

“Ah… Thank you?” Their reactions were marginally bewildering, but behind the gestures, Kouki recognized that his words had reached them.

He had only ever wanted—needed—their warm acknowledgment, nothing more or less.

“If that’s the case,” Kouki began, beaming down at Ryouta before his glance moved back to Kensuke and Mamoru, his heart swelling with amused affection.

“Tell me what you want for breakfast.”

**Author's Note:**

> i love growth and they have one combined brain cell
> 
> [I'm on twitter here!](https://twitter.com/tomodachimeter)


End file.
